


After The Shooting Stars Fell

by lunaticmeap



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: At one point, Episode: s07e13 Lions' Pride Part 2, Established Relationship, Family Feels, Family Reunions, Gen, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Nostalgia, Other, POV Multiple, Shiro (Voltron)-centric, Shiro being a wholesome person that people talk to, Team Voltron Family, You know that moment when everyone gets visitors in the hospital room, also minor Allurance, blink and youll miss it, it's a travesty that we dont know hunk's parents' names and we also dont know keith's father's name, this was me experimenting with some Pidge whump and then it ended up with Sheith in it again, wholesome content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-01-13 17:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21183032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaticmeap/pseuds/lunaticmeap
Summary: Five years after they left Earth, the paladins return to their families.“What happened?” She asked immediately, already pulling up a second screen to schedule aiding shipments for Earth.“Sendak,” Shiro said simply - she needed no further explanations and he didn’t need more prompting to switch to the topic she was waiting for. “We won, but Voltron took a fatal hit. We’ve just gotten Keith and everyone else into surgery or intensive care before I called you.”Keith.“How is he?” Krolia's heartbeat pounded in her ears, barely allowing her to hear Shiro’s next words.“He’s-” Shiro swallowed. “It’s bad. Possibly the worst of all the paladins. Black always takes the worst damage, being the body of Voltron and all.” He took a long breath to reel his own emotions in. “H-he was barely breathing when I got to him.”





	1. Family, Part 1.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also some mentions of needles and slightly SLIGHTLY graphic injury.  
I appreciate any mistakes that anyone points out because English is not my first language. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys this!

####  **Matt**

When Matt landed on Earth, he fully expected to see his mother standing in the hangars with her uniform crisp and pressed, arms across her chest and smiling in joy with an underlying fury buried somewhere beneath her eyes. He knew the look too well from the number of times he stayed up late working on some project that he really shouldn’t have brought back from the lab. That was what he expected.

He expected yelling, he expected screaming, he expected her to take him to Pidge and give them both a good lecture about going to the other side of the galaxy without informing her and expected to be grounded for the rest of eternity, even if he was twenty four and was on his way to moving out. 

But he came back to his father, dressed in the grey uniform unbuttoned with the white t-shirt underneath peaking out, and a slouch to his shoulders, standing in what was left of the Garrison property with dust and dirt covering every surface they stood on. He was smiling slightly, but grimly as he stood, waiting for Matt to follow him. 

“Your mother’s outside the operating room right now. We’re taking you to one of the nurses because Katie needs a blood transfusion and you and her have the same blood type.”

“What happened, dad?” Matt somehow still found his voice as they hurried down the hallway. He dropped his gears in front of the cot they set up for him, holding still as the nurses hooked him up to a needle and waited as the blood bags filled up for Pidge.

For Katie - for Pidge - genius Pidge who had more intelligence in her pinky than anyone her age. For his little sister that had disappeared for three years after Lotor’s battle with Voltron, leaving Matt with a wound so big he wondered if it had ever closed. His C.O. banned him from flight duties for the five phoebs after he found out about Voltron’s disappearance. Three years later and Voltron had somehow miraculously survived and was on Earth. Matt had never felt his heart so full of hope and despair at the same time. 

“Is Katie alright, dad?” He dared to ask.

His father sat next to him, looking as if he wanted to dissociate from the situation altogether, but was holding on if only for the sake of his family who needed him now more than ever. Matt held his father’s hand tightly as he watched the red tube connected to his arm, waiting for the man - his model, his aspiration and hero - to speak. A long exhale, a hand rubbing over his eyes underneath the pair of thin framed glasses later, his father responded. 

Matt hadn’t noticed that they were red before. 

“We have the best doctors for them at the moment. She’ll be alright. We just need to trust the doctors and trust her to fight her way back to us.”

The silence lingered a little while before Matt almost whispered, “Sometimes I wonder if I am the one protecting her or it’s the other way around.”

His father gave him a pained smile. “She’s a paladin, Matt.”

“She shouldn’t be,” he said, if a bit snappy, because he hated the thought of her being a paladin. He hated how they were thrust into a war they never asked for or knew about until five years ago, and leading the fight against evil was his sister, a gang of teenagers, Shiro and two Alteans. They were all too young for this - especially Pidge. “She should be preparing for her final exam at the Garrison before graduating and becoming an officer, or working towards a second degree or something.

“We should be attending her graduation. Not waiting outside of her operating room,” he choked, hands curled into fists, one of them tightly around his father’s rough fingers. His father’s other hand came to his shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. It wasn’t fair - war wasn't fair.

“I know, son,” his father whispered. “But she is what she is. And we’ll be here to support her when she needs us. That’s what families are.”

Matt nodded shakily, holding himself together as he stared at his father, tired and stretched thin, but sturdy and reliable as a mountain. A silence filled the room and he fell asleep at some point whilst the clock ticked. 

Somewhere in his dream, Pidge was three years old and wearing a dirt covered dress, standing in the canola field behind their grandparents’ farm in Italy. The sun shone brilliantly as he took her hand and showed her the rows of plants that stretched on and on. The smile on her face was bright as a whirlwind of yellow flew into the air. And the joyous laugh that escaped her moving lips followed the wind too quick for Matt to truly catch, escaping as easily as the yellow flower petals flying off to some destination they will never know of.

####  **Mrs. Garrett**

The Garrison sent an officer to her house two weeks after Hunk had stopped calling them. Mrs. Garrett had not expected it when said officer rang her doorbell, telling her investigations were being conducted to find her missing son, and two other cadets in his flight team. It was supposed to be reassuring, and it was at the beginning, until the months passed, Hunk’s birthday approached, and it could no longer stop her heart from breaking. A mother does not forget her children, after all. 

She poured her heart into the birthday party that they had for Hunk that year, despite him never being there. It was almost like a call for him to come home, to somehow catch a whiff of her infamous calzones and his uncle’s various rendition of his favourite food in the wind and return to the family who continued to wait for him. And her grandnieces and nephews continued to question where their uncle had gone on his very own birthday. Mrs. Garrett could only smile sadly as she patted their heads, telling them Hunk was too busy with his studying to make it home this year. 

Hunk was supposed to turn nineteen that year the Galra came. They were supposed to have another family gathering to celebrate it. But fire rained from the sky, and the earth cracked the streets and their family was separated, forced into labour camps that reminded her of the awful history lessons she took as a child. They were all confused, waiting for some sort of apocalypse, for something to come at the very end of every day. 

On some days, Mrs. Garrett hoped her son was dead, just so he wouldn’t come back to this. And then she held onto her husband and wept, because she _ no _, she wanted to see her child again, and she wanted to see him safe and in her arms, happy and smiling like the last time she saw him at the airport. Some days she wondered if they would ever get out of this place or if they would ever make it out alive.

There were no birthdays for three long years. But they did make it out alive, because _ Voltron came _. And Voltron saved them. It was surprising, but more than that, the fact that Hunk was the paladin of the Yellow Lion. The praises and thanks they received from survivors and friends for Hunk’s efforts came. 

_ “Your son was incredible,”_ they said.

_ “He’s a hero.” _

_ “I never thought I would see the day Hunk would be piloting a ship all by himself!” _

He was incredible. He was a hero. But he was her child, hooked up to multiple IVs, with bandages across his chest and looking too lifeless. He was more muscled, bigger framed and sharper jawed, but his skin was sunken and blue veins clear underneath his eyes. Mrs. Garrett stopped herself in the middle of the room, just before she could sit beside her son, and it was only her husband pushing her into a chair next to the bed that she managed to approach him at all. Something broken in her was tearing into even smaller shards.

She continued to stare with a frown, talking to her husband, “He’d grown so much.”

A shuffle of movements told her that her husband nodded. “I’m so proud of him,” he said, tentatively putting a hand on her right shoulder. Her own left hand caught it, holding it close. 

“Me too.” She pulled in a heavy breath before taking her right to wrap around her son’s arm - real, tangible and warm under her hand. 

“Hey, Hunk. We’re here.” She said to him, the unconscious man lying on the bed. Mrs. Garrett stayed in her husband’s embrace as they waited in the silence of the room, until the sun began to set and every day after, until their son would finally return to them.

####  **Veronica**

The Red Lion was one of first to be rescued, only because of how easy it was to simply retrieve her from the desert with sand and rock stretching for miles.. Veronica was out of her seat the minute the Atlas landed, running towards the extraction team that would be responsible for Red’s extraction, following them regardless of any orders that told her otherwise because _she_ was going to be the one to save her brother - it was the only way she would be assured that he will be alright. 

“McLain!” she heard Iverson call her for her disobedience - or at least what she assumed what it was for, but she was still running, quickly changing out of her uniform and into the paramedic clothes. Just as she was almost on the chopper, she turned around to see Shiro and Iverson standing in front of her. 

“Go get your brother home,” Iverson said and Shiro wished her luck before similarly heading off to retrieve the other paladins. Veronica gave them a salute before flying off. 

The Red Lion laid on her side, eyes black and unmoving when Veronica climbed into her open mouth. In the cockpit, Lance was draped over the console, cold and still, and for a moment Veronica almost feared he wasn’t breathing. But then she felt it against her cheek: a slow but pained and unsteady breath. 

“He’s alive!” She called in relief. He was breathing, and that was all that mattered. The paramedics piled in after her with a stretcher, carefully carrying her brother’s limp figure out, leaving Veronica in the cockpit alone. 

She took a glance of the consoles and various levers, and the chair vacant of its pilot. She tried pushing at the throttle levers - its weight heavy in her hand. _ Lance loves this _, she thought. The very boy who thought that he could never be a pilot became a paladin of all things, and Veronica could only look at the chair with a grim frown. 

She remembered how she used to smack him across the head for being a little shit to their younger cousins or nieces and nephews. She remembered how upset he was about his grades this one time, so much that he thought about not applying for the Garrison at all. That is, until she showed him the simulators for the very first time seven years ago, and oh how bright did his eyes light up in interest. But his eyes went brighter when they were discussing the crazy meanings behind a novel they both read. 

_“I’ll help you get here,” _ she promised him as she showed him the controls. _“I know you can pass the entrance exam. Don’t ever doubt that you can’t.”_

The Garrison was never his dream - it was hers. And he wanted to make her proud, and she was too caught up in trying to push her ideals onto him that she never asked if he would ever enjoy his time here as much as she did. 

“Officer McLain,” one of the paramedics called. “We’re leaving now.” 

Veronica began her heavy trudge out, but the feel of the levers imprinted itself on her hand.

Lance’s head lolled slightly from left to right as they took off in the choppers, heading back to the Garrison. Veronica watched over her brother’s sleeping form and questioned if this was the price she had to pay for not being there for him when he needed her. 

####  **Coran**

Coran wished Earth had geniuses like his grandfather. He also wished he was his grandfather, because his grandfather wouldn’t have allowed for these human doctors to tend to the Princess of all people. _No_, his grandfather would have called a legion of Altean engineers and doctors to put together a healing pod and watch over Allura until she woke.

And he wouldn’t have let the Blue Lion fall in blaze of fire and spark, carrying Allura in her before hurling straight into the ocean, sinking until she hit the ocean floor where she laid until she is pulled out like a rag doll. Coran stood frozen while he observed from the bridge of the Atlas, watching the lions fall like stars on a trajectory not of their choosing, burning lines across the sky. 

Behind him, Shiro started calling for the Atlas to land. “Get Slav and Sam Holt to calculate their point of impact and get an extraction team ready for our paladins.” 

It was the duty of a Wimbleton and their following generations to care for the royal family. And Coran felt as if he had failed them all as he sat by Allura’s bedside, tucking her in gently and making sure the wires coming from the various sensors wasn’t obstructive to her sleep. 

He knew Earth’s atmosphere was far more forgiving than Altea or many other planets that they’ve visited when it comes to falling airships. But it was enough to fracture Allura’s left arm in three different places, with her forearm mangled from the broken arm plate. It took three people to stop him from running into the operating room after Allura, and he eventually didn't. But he did _ demand _for contact with the Coalition and Blade of Marmora. The sentiment was simple: he couldn’t trust the Princess with people that have hardly heard of aliens up until four decaphoebs prior. 

As he sat, watching the sky turn to night outside, Coran admitted to find Earth’s constellations as beautiful as the paladins found them to be, but parts of him vehemently denied it as the _most beautiful,_ not when he couldn’t see the Oriande’s Compass, nor could he see the Altean Crown aligned atop the Castle of Lions. 

“We’re a long way from home, Princess,” he said to Allura, not expecting a reply. Earth’s single moon was white, unlike Altea’s three that reflected in reddish and orange hues. The light filtering through the windows cascaded off Allura’s silver hair, making her look as regal and ethereal as her mother on Alfor’s coronation day, despite the cast on her arm. 

That was so long ago. More than ten thousand decaphoebs ago. And what remained of their ancient civilisation now is only accurately remembered by the only two people in this room. The thought that scared him before, now it merely saddens him despite the knowledge that a colony of Alteans still existed out there somewhere in the Phantom Zone. The universe felt larger than ever, but that didn’t matter when all he needed to do was to be here, because his family was here. His kin, his princess - his _ daughter _ \- was here, and he would stand guard until she wakes. 

“Goodnight, Princess,” he said quietly. 

Allura hardly stirred in her sleep..

####  **Krolia**

Krolia was having dinner when she received the call. The frequency was strange, but the coordinates of origin wasn’t. She could recite it from memory after the many decaphoebs staring at it through a screen, as if it could transport her straight back into her lover’s arms once she willed for it to happen.

She expected Keith, but Shiro was the face that showed up on her screen, looking ragged and worn in grey uniform. She pushed her food away. 

“What happened?” She asked immediately, already pulling up a second screen to schedule aiding shipments for Earth. 

“Sendak... and a robeast,” Shiro said simply - she needed no further explanations and he didn’t need more prompting to switch to the topic she was waiting for. “We won, but Voltron took a fatal hit. We’ve just gotten Keith and everyone else into surgery or intensive care before I called you.”

_ Keith. _

“How is he?” Krolia's heartbeat pounded in her ears, barely allowing her to hear Shiro’s next words. 

“He’s-” Shiro swallowed. “It’s bad. Possibly the worst of all the paladins. Black always takes the worst damage, being the body of Voltron and all.” He took a long breath to reel his own emotions in. “H-he was barely breathing when I got to him.”

“We’ll be there in two days. Can I trust you to stay with him until then?” She probably shouldn’t have asked such things of him, not when Shiro looked like he was about to collapse, himself. But she only trusted so many people with her son, and that included the man who practically raised him. 

“I promise,” he nodded tiredly. “I’ll update you when I get anymore news.” 

Krolia nodded. “Thank you, Shiro.”

He smiled slightly in acknowledgement, but with a heavy amount of guilt in his gaze. She recognised it from after he had awaken from the healing pod, after he had recalled the moment when his blade drew the mark on Keith’s cheek. Keith had spent a long time convincing him that the event was separate from his character. Krolia never got to see if Shiro had managed to believe it. 

“Krolia…” he called, and she hummed in question. 

“I’m sorry.” Shiro squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.” 

Krolia shook her head. “I’m sure you did your best. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, Shiro.” 

She only saw him take a shuddering breath before he waved her a goodbye. “I’ll see you in two days. Have a safe trip, Krolia.” And the screen turned to black. 

Two days later, Krolia saw her son in the ICU through a glass window because not even Shiro could bypass the strict quarantine rules. 

“He’ll be out of there soon.” Shiro assured her. “They said he’s been stable since the end of surgery.” 

“He’s a fighter.” Krolia agreed with him, a pained smile on her face. “Always has been since the very first day of his life.”

Shiro turned to her with slight confusion, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Keith’s small for Galra, or even half Galra or human. His father was at least your height, but Keith was so _small_,” she told him. “He was premature, less than four pounds and barely breathing when he was born.”

“God...” he gasped.

“We were afraid that he wouldn’t make the night,” she said softly. Krolia remembered it well despite the agony of the hours before. It was hard to forget the fear on her lover’s face as he craddled the bundle of blankets, worrying as to whether Keith would stop breathing in his arms. She spent that night and every night after for the first month, holding her son close, crying, hoping and and praying to whatever holy entity that existed in the universe to be kind enough to let her keep him, to let her son live to see every tomorrow after that. 

“But he did.” Shiro offered her a comforting smile. “And he’ll come back to us.” 

She nodded, and prayed again, for the young man lying on the bed with tubes in his arms, ECG sensors taped to his chest and a breathing tube keeping him alive. Somehow, he seemed as frail now as he did at his birth, though perhaps that was her fear from all those decaphoebs ago still haunting her. And Krolia realised right then, of how lucky she was that she could have seen him today. 

“Thank you,” she swallowed the emotion building in her throat and wiped the edge of her eyes for tears, before pulling Shiro into a long-overdue hug. She hadn’t expected to see her son at all after she had left him almost twenty years ago. Yet somehow, they were here, and they were both alive.

_“Thank you for letting us find each other again.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did i literally just shove the story of my birth into Keith? Yes.  
Apparently the doctor that delivered me (which is my cousin's aunt) and basically everyone said I was literally as small as a kitten, and was barely breathing when i was born. I was like 1.5-1.8kg or something and was in NICU for like two weeks before I was actually allowed to go home.  
Bad joke, but i was giving my parents a hard time before I was even living and that's the truth.
> 
> Also did i literally started writing this right before my exams? Yes. I'm an idiot. I'll finish this some day. Alongside _but your tears are as bright as stars._ IDEK when that'll be but hopefully when December comes around wooo!
> 
> HMU on _[Tumblr](https://meapistrash.tumblr.com/)!_


	2. Family, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Paladins wake up.

####  ** Lance **

It was late afternoon on one of the cooler days, where the wind swept wide across the desert with clouds hanging in giant masses above without the intentions of raining yet. And of course, there were hardly any birds in the desert to be seen flying around on such a pleasant day, but if it were the norm of his home in a country far away, Lance almost expected one to appear on the open windowsill, chirping happily. But if the recent destruction had been unkind to humans, they were possibly even more so to the wildlife.

His mother peered down at him with hopeful eyes as he continued to try and take notes of his surroundings with effort. She gripped his arm from where she sat and spoke to him in soft tones until he had come to full awareness.

His family gathered around the bed, excited and glad that he has finally awoken, and he took all their gratitude with his own at the knowledge that his entire family is here, even Veronica, who was technically supposed to be at work somewhere that moment. She looked as if she had aged so much since the last time that he saw her, and that was apparently only less than a week ago. Lance frowned at the news – only a week ago, he and the rest of Voltron had fallen from the upper atmosphere and crashed onto the Earth.

“Mom, how are they?” He turned to his mother. She forced a smile.

“You’re the first to wake up, Lance.” She told him. “But your friends are alright. Ronnie said that they’re all stable now, but they just haven’t woken up yet.”

“A-and Allura? Is she okay?”

“We called in backups from your friends in space. Coran insisted getting an Olkari doctor, and he’s been with her since.” Veronica assured him. “She’s fine as well. I just saw her and Coran yesterday.”

“Are we okay now?” he asked his family tiredly. His body felt like absolute crap, and he can hardly look at the wall without his eyes going spotty because of how bright and white it was. He was just _ so _ tired.

His brothers and sisters smile warmly at him, and his mother pulled him into her embrace. “We are. You can rest, Lance.”

Her words tipped the scale, and suddenly, Lance was crying. The years- worth of pain, longing and endurance all washing over the dam that he had built to keep himself going out there. And finally, in the presence of those he loved, he was given relief from his never-ending duties. They did it. Voltron did it – they’ve saved Earth, and everyone was safe and sound.

His family stayed until visiting hour ended and then left to their given quarters at the Garrison’s facilities, with the exception of Veronica, who stayed behind to keep him company, reasoning that her position would probably grant her some extra leeway.

The last time that they spoke to each other was over the comms, and the last time Lance saw her was in the desert as they hope for the Lions to retrieve them on Earth. He didn’t have much to say to her because his head still hurted like a bitch, and he was sure he looked like someone had hit him with a sledgehammer too. But Veronica was wearing that thoughtful look that he could recognise from a billion miles away.

From memory, the first time that he saw that face was when she was finally thinking about her higher education choices. And then the second was that day at school, where Veronica found him hiding in the science lab technician’s office and showed him a simulator sent by the nearby flight school. There was always some sort of fire and determination in her eyes in those moments.

This third time, Lance saw something that reflected his own exhaustion, and something akin to guilt.

“Ronnie,” he called to her. “What’s up?”

Veronica turned to him with an almost unnoticeable sigh. “Do you ever regret this?”

“Voltron?” Lance’s eyebrows shot up. “No, not really. Sometimes I get tired of it, but I haven’t ever regretted being able to do so much. Why'd you ask?”

“I was just thinking of all the things that could have happened, and how they turned out. And how if we did something just a little different since the very beginning, then maybe things wouldn’t have come to this.” She shrugged. “Such as… if Kerberos was never done to begin with, then we would still be anonymous to the Galra. Then Sendak wouldn’t have come.”

“But then Voltron would have never returned.”

"And you would still be a cadet in flight school.”

“Don’t think I would have been happy though,” Lance snorted. “I was a cargo-class pilot, remember?”

“Yeah. I guess not.”

“But I’m happy now,” he added. “I’m happy to be a paladin of Voltron. I don’t think being promoted into fighter-class pilot could ever compete to that.”

“I’m glad,” Veronica said, fiddling with the cuffs of her uniform. “Because I never wished this for you.”

Lance frowned in confusion. “What do you mean?”

It took a while before she responded. “I’m proud of you, Lance. You’re out there doing things that none of us have even imagined. But…” She tucked her arms under themselves. “I knew that Voltron was a great burden, but I hadn’t realised just how much you had to give.”

“It’s okay, Ronnie. I’m just doing what anyone would have.”

“I know.” She shook her head. “But I could never have wished this for you when I pushed you into the Garrison, because none of this is worth it if you die in the end..”

The flowers in the vase on his bedside table only quivered ever so slightly at the occasional winds that filter through the open windows of his room. Lance thought for a long while before reaching his hand out carefully for his sister to take. “I’m not going to die, Ronnie,” he told her. “The Paladins and Voltron… they’ve taught me so much, just as you and _ everyone _did. I found a family, Ronnie, very different from our family but really similar at the same time.

“I mean I got the two annoying older brothers and the one annoying sister as well with Voltron, but also an extra _ one _ younger brother that loves me to death.”

_ “Keith? _”

“What?” Lance blinked. “_ Hell no! _ Keith’s older than me. And he is exactly like Marco - he would kill me in his sleep if he had the chance.”

They both laughed, and Lance gripped his sister’s hand tightly. “I’m glad you pushed me all those years back. Because all of _ this _ ,…” he gestured figuratively, “...is for my family. And for you all, _ everything _ is worth it.” 

####  ** Hunk **

When Hunk woke up, it was because his niece was pretending that her stuffed bunny as a makeup sponge to give him a generous makeover. He groaned at the pat of soft synthetic fur against his face, popping open one eye because he didn’t exactly feel like facing the day just yet.

His limbs felt like lead, his head still throbbed at his slightest eye movement. He was greeted with a curious face staring down at him from her perch on the edge of the bed. Hunk opened his eyes completely and chuckled, “Hey there little monkey!”

His niece’s squeal almost made his ears ring. She tackled him and hung around his neck, her small but very bony figure on Hunk’s already injured chest was like someone threw a not-so-light sack of sand on him out of nowhere, pushing the wind out of him. He coughed heavily with a winded groan as his niece apologised profusely and hopped off the bed, promising to come back with his parents. She grinned widely and told him how glad she was that he was awake just before she left.

Hunk pressed the button to shift his back into a more upright position and stared at the cards and flowers that was on his bedside. There were many cards and handwritten notes, both in elegant writing and childish letters that he knew came from fans. He picked up the nearest one with a crayon drawing of the Yellow Lion on it, though it looked more like a regular orange tabby than actual mechanical lion that it was. It made him smile as he saw quirky hand-lettering:

_ Thank you for saving the world! _

He took another letter – a longer one this time, written elegantly and addressed to The Yellow Paladin:

...

_ My family and I were in one of the labour camps by Sendak since the beginning. We lived in Moscow most of the time, but were visiting our cousins in Arizona during the summer holidays when suddenly we were taken from home. I would be honest to say that I hadn’t even thought that we could make it out of this place alive. They reminded me a lot of the concentration camps in Europe and the U.S. during the Second World War. Being a historian, I’ve studied a lot about this, you see. And it was difficult to keep hope when the threat is so unknown yet so similar to what history has given us before. _

_ But then you and the rest of Voltron came and save us. And for the first time in a long while, I looked to the sky and feel hopeful. I cannot thank you enough for getting us out of there. _

_ ... _

_ I heard that your family was also victims of Sendak’s labour camps as well. I hope that they have survived and that you’ll be reunited with them. I’m sure they would be proud to hear about your achievements – I know that I would be if I heard that someone in my family had been a part of Voltron. _

_ I know that they will probably have their own fair share of trauma from this, and I only hope you’ll support each other when the time comes. And know that those of us at the camps have seen Voltron’s flight in the sky, and heard of your story, Yellow Paladin. The citizens of Earth are proud to have you as their hero, and we will always support you. Thank you, whoever you are that rides the mighty yellow beast, and best of luck for what may come next. _

Hunk felt a weight to the letter that hadn’t existed before he read it. And he was suddenly reminded of his family, and that they had been in the camps as well for the three years that he had been stuck in some sort of space-time stasis on the other side of the universe. He had only seen his parents through binoculars weeks ago – perhaps even more than a month because he didn’t know how long he was out for, though he suspected no less than a week. And he had missed them _ so much _.

He wondered how they were, and if they have been given the help they needed since whatever that has happened to Hunk. But with the soft swoosh of the door sliding open, Hunk need not question any longer as saw his parents before him with his own eyes for the first time in years.

“_ Mom, dad…” _ he heard himself croaking. Somehow, it felt unreal, as if the figures before him that were bathed in the brilliant fluorescent lights were only figments of his imagination, created by his mind as it finally snapped from longing that has kept him restless since he left.

First, his parents came through the door, then behind them, his uncle, then his niece and nephew. They circled around his bed. And then his mother took his hand, and there was calloused warm skin against the palm of his hand, and her voice - still the same as it had been years ago. He looked around the room; they all look older with a certain weariness to their posture. But they looked better than when he saw them last. And they were all here with him.

His father handed him a napkin before gently squeezing his shoulder. “Welcome back, Hunk.”

####  ** Allura **

Allura was dazed and tired, but she still smiled as Coran’s hand grasped hers tightly, eyes brimming with relief and a mixture of other emotions, “Welcome back, Princess.”

She blinked slowly, turning her head towards the window and noticing how the sun was just peaking on Earth’s horizon and daylight began to spill across this corner of the planet. She looked back to Coran. He almost looked comical at the moment, and she suspected that he hasn’t groomed his moustache lately as its shagginess and shape has reached that level of intolerable on Coran’s personal standards. She said softly, “Good morning, Coran.”

And if was as if her voice had finally been the last straw. Coran was shaking as he thanked the ancients that Allura has finally woken up. He went about to ask her a multitude of questions about how the pillow felt, how the mattress was, how comfortable she was, if there were any pain anywhere, all of which she couldn’t exactly take notice very well.

“They’ve given you quite a lot of painkillers because of your arm, I believe.”

Indeed, when she looked down towards her right arm, it was in some sort of heave white cast, wrapped in white bandages. Her hand had splotches of clotted blood showing up underneath her skin, and it was still very much swollen where the cast just ends. It looked almost as awful as she felt, and Allura suddenly felt so very sad about herself.

“Allura?” Coran looked at her in concern, waiting for her to say something.

“Coran, please be honest. Do I look as bad as I feel?” Allura forced a smile.

Coran took her free hand in both of his. “You are as radiant as ever, Princess.”

“Thank you, Coran. But do excuse me for not believing you.”

“Oh, but you must!” Coran exclaimed. “When have I ever lied to you about your appearance, Princess?”

“Oh, I don’t know… probably that time you let me wear that hideous purple outfit out into the gardens with that rat’s nest of a hairdo.”

“Ah yes. You were adorable in that dress.”

“I looked like a savage!” Allura closed her eyes and smiled. “Mother almost fell off her chair because she was laughing so hard at me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so shocked.”

They both laughed and fell into a comfortable silence as they listened to the clock tick slowly by the seconds. Nostalgia crept up to Allura at the memory of her mother and that endless patience and love. The last time Allura saw her, she was determined and fierce in an armor that was matching to the one her father wore. Her mother stood before the throne, wishing them luck before they leave with the Castle of Lions. Allura could still hear the echoes of her final words to them.

_ I will hold our defenses here until you return. You must go with your father. Take the Lions to Arus, they’re our only hope. _

_ Be strong, Allura. Be strong for Altea. _

Allura tilted her head towards Coran. “Do you reckon my mother will be proud of who I am now?” _ Crownless and homeless as I am. _

Coran sighed. “She is. And your father too. You know that.”

“Even if I failed Altea?” She was a princess of an entire planet once, practically queen since her father’s death. And yet, here she was, lying in bed, crippled and pathetic. Suddenly she had become a soldier more than a monarch without ever realising it, because there can be no ruler without those to rule. And even if remnants of Altea may still exist out there, she was no longer their ruler, nor was she the ruler her parents wanted her to be.

“Allura, you never failed Altea.”

_ “Didn’t I?” _

“Altea fell because of a series of events that I eventually believed to be fate. And just because She no longer exist, doesn’t mean that you’ve failed your duties.” Coran was tapping her hand rhythmically, deep in thought. “You’re the legacy of Altea, Allura. And no one can do that job better than you.”

Allura smiled at him. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Age and experience.” Coran laughed. “I’ve known you since you were a child. I would hope I know _ something _ about you, Princess.”

“That was such a long time ago.”

“It was. We’re all that’s left, aren’t we?” Suddenly, Coran’s grip tightened around her hand, and Allura stared as tears began to spill down his cheeks, over his crescent cheek markings as he choked over his own breath. She was still so tired that she could barely understand what had transpired.

“Coran…”

_ “Please don’t ever do this again, Allura _ ,” Coran said quietly. _ “You’re all I have left.” _

He looked so utterly broken and sincere that Allura didn’t have the heart to give him a promise – she didn’t dare to promise safety for herself, not when the war still rages and Allura’s work continued. She was Altea’s legacy – the legacy of diplomats and peacekeepers, and the final push towards peace after ten thousand years of Galra colonialism seemed only on the horizon.. She swallowed her words and squeezed Coran’s hand in reassurance instead, as if saying _ I’m real, I’m still here. _

“I’m sorry.” She told him and watched Coran’s face drop to the ground, shaking his head. He was still mumbling something under his breath but she could barely catch it as her consciousness was slipping from her again. She was still so tired.

She felt sleep calling for her again, and she told Coran as such. Coran readjusted the bed for her and pulled her fuzzy braided hair over one of her shoulders. She heard him promising to come back when she wakes up, and she only hummed in reply, content as she closed her eyes and went back to sleep. 

####  ** Pidge **

Pidge woke up and Matt was ready to kill her. 

She swore she could see murderous intent on his face as his relief from seeing her wake up turned into gritting teeth, tense jaws, and glares that would make their mother proud. It was a cold kind of rage that signified how long Matt had chewed on his thoughts before Pidge was finally able to hear it. 

“I can’t believe you.” He said to her. 

_ “Well good morning to you too,” _ Pidge rasped, her throat dry. _ “What happened?” _

Matt handed her a glass of water and continued his unimpressed gaze. “Voltron did a free fall from the exosphere and you all fell into a coma.”

“Woah. I remembered none of that. That’s why I feel like crap, huh?” Pidge blinked, surprised as she gave the empty glass back and finally looked at her brother. If she looked and felt like she was hurled under a tank, then Matt couldn’t have been far off, looking as if someone threw him under a car. He was a little paler than his usual self, and the veins under his eyes were prominently blue against his skin. 

“When did you get back?” She asked.

“About a day after you guys got that Robeast. I met dad.” Matt sighed. “Everything’s a wreck, but they’ve started to clean and reconstruct Garrison grounds.” 

“You didn’t see mom?”

“Mom was busy with you, and then they sent her to the field hospitals. Haven’t seen her since.” He took a breath and swallowed, holding his emotions in. “You know - when I came back, I thought I was gonna see mom. And I thought that she was gonna get us both in a room together and start giving us a piece of her mind for at least an hour or so.”

“She’s probably still mad that we never came back with dad that time.” 

“Oh _ she is. _” Matt nodded with slight mirthfulness. “She gave me a mini-lecture because we were short on time. But I think that’ll definitely come back at some point though, now that you’re awake.” 

“Well, maybe I shouldn’t have woken up then.” Pidge chuckled, but then stopped immediately from the look on her brother’s face. She smiled apologetically. “Too soon?”

“Don’t ever say that. Do you even...” 

“I‘m sorry.”

Matt took a deep breath and shook his head. His hands weaved into each other, playing with his thumbs as he contemplated over his words.

“I thought you were dead three years, Katie,” he finally said. “I lived for three years, thinking you were dead. And then the first time I heard that Voltron had returned, I was so hopeful. I was _ so _hopeful. I came back thinking I would get to see you again, alive and well. And what I got instead- what I found out instead, was that my little sister was about ready to leave again without saying goodbye, this time maybe for good.”

Pidge had been where Matt was, once. She had hoped for a year after the Kerberos mission’s failure that her father and brother weren’t dead, even if the rest of the world told her so. And the memory resurfaced, carrying with it the aches and pain of believing in the Garrison’s lie.

And perhaps it was drugs still running in her system, or maybe it was just how utterly tired and worn she felt, but Matt’s words began to weigh heavier and heavier in her mind, piling up layers upon layers of dread and empathy until it was spilling over like a tidal wave of guilt. And distraught was all she was as she started to cry before she even realised it. 

Then, Matt’s arms were around her and pulling her into a wet hug. Pidge could hear his sniffles between her own, and his anger seemed to have dissipated into something between a mix of relief and fear as his hands clung to her arms. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He choked the words out. “I’m proud of you. I’m sorry for being mad. It’s not your fault.” 

Pidge buried her face into the front of Matt’s shirt and held tightly. _ “I’m not going anywhere. I’m never saying goodbye.” _

####  ** Keith **

Keith felt a gentle stroke on his head as he opened his eyes. The sky was just starting to turn golden as the sun began to set, painting the white walls of his room a brilliant orange just a shade more yellow than the desert canyons outside. The gentle hand on his head stopped suddenly and Krolia’s face came looming over him, smiling. 

“How are you feeling, Keith?” She asked gently as she held his face.

Keith blinked slowly as he tried to make sense of everything around him. On his wrist was an IV catheter that he suspected was still pumping him full of medication. He leaned further into his mother’s hand, letting himself drown in her voice and presence. “I’m okay.”

Krolia sat in a chair by his bedside, holding onto his free arm. She dressed more casual and human than he had ever seen, leaning against the bed in her jeans and a tee, with a soft hoodie. It looked slightly too big on her frame, and it smelled like old wood and desert sand. 

“Nice clothes, Mom.” He remarked, and Krolia turned her face downwards, inspecting herself. “Why the clothes, though?”

“Alien armour makes it hard to blend in.” She pressed down the slight wrinkle on the shirt. “It’s all I found from home. I don’t think it’s particularly in-style anymore.” 

“Fashion is overrated.”

Krolia chuckled. “Is that how you defend _ your _fashion tastes?”

“No, Dad always says that when I don’t like the clothes he buys me.” Keith snickered.

“Did your dad have bad tastes, then? I wasn’t very up to date with Earth’s fashion during the time I was here last.”

“The worst. Shiro kinda taught me to dress, so I was mercifully spared.” Keith thought fondly about all the times he was petulant, arms crossed and pouting as his dad took him to the nearest town to get him new clothes. He hated shopping, as a child. But after his dad died, he missed being able to just go anywhere and be with anyone worthwhile. Then Shiro showed up.

“You still take on a bit of your dad though,” Krolia poked gently at his head. “Especially your stubbornness.”

“Really? I thought that was all you?” 

She gave him a deadpan look, though not without humour. “I wonder who you got your sense of humour from. Probably Shiro.”

“I thought you liked him, though. Isn’t he your_ hopeful future son-in-law _ ? _ Your golden child that actually listens to you?_” Keith teased. “Maybe I should tell him that you’ve adopted him.” 

“You’re very lucky that you’re still recovering from that surgery, Keith.” His mother said and Keith only gave her his most stupid grin.

“You know what I’m curious about though?” Krolia tilted her head. “You don’t sound like your dad at all.”

“You mean my accent?”

“Yes. Your dad had a very… distinct accent. I think I’ve heard it a few times when I walked down the Garrison’s hall, but not a lot.”

_ “Would ya prefer I talk like dis?” _

Krolia had to actively stop herself from staring at him in horror. Keith started to shake with laughter, so much that his head started to spin a little and he had to make himself look away from his mother’s face. 

“I used to have that really strong Texas accent until he died. After that, I got sent to orphanages and foster homes in more urban towns. And their accent wasn’t as strong, so I kinda learnt to lose it.” Keith explained. “And the Garrison is actually quite international, so you do find staff from all over Earth with different accents. Your translator actually gives you an accent, too.”

Krolia hummed. “What do I sound like, then?” 

“I don’t know, honestly. You sound…_ warm_, like dad.” Like nights on the porch wrapped in a lap blanket and snuggling next to his dad and listening to him point to the constellations in the sky and wondering why his father ever looked so forlorn every once in a while.

Years later and Keith finally figured out why his dad always looked towards the sky - towards a great distance away where the woman he loved may be. Then he would look down at Keith and smile, as if seeing her in their son. 

Sometimes Keith forgot how young his dad was when he was born. His dad had been 24 when he met Krolia and 26 when Keith arrived and Krolia left not much later. But he seemed so much older, because to a mere child of 8, the wisdom of the world was contained in that singular figure that tucked him into bed at night and became his whole world up.

Keith remembered him as a star, brilliant and bright as the sun. And like Earth, there had only ever been one sun that Keith had orbited, until suddenly, there was no longer a guiding light for him to follow. 

His dad hadn’t meant for that. Neither did his mom. But then Voltron gave him a sense of direction again, and his mother with her endless wisdom. And now, they’re back to the place where it all began. Keith only wished his dad could have been here with them at that moment. 

Keith just missed him _ so much _.

It was as if Krolia understood what his tears meant when she situated herself on the bed and cradled him like a child. She didn’t ask questions, but only offered her arms and a comfortable presence. 

In between his sniffles, Keith choked out a quiet, “Thank you.” And the last thing he registered before he fell asleep again was the warmth surrounding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What surprises me the most is how much i wrote for this chapter, considering that im sort of in a slump at the moment and it took so long to churn out this much words. BUT HERE IT IS, FINALLY, 3 MONTHS SINCE THE LAST TIME I UPDATED THIS.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this! I kinda liked how I wrote all the dialogues and the reminiscing. I felt like it was appropriate for this chapter because the Paladins were finally getting time to talk to their family for the first time since they left.
> 
> Leave me some kudos and comments if you like! I'd love some feedback! 
> 
> Also hmu on [Tumblr](https://meapistrash.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/imbabyplzbekind) if you like. I'm trying to be active on at least one of those. 
> 
> Next chapter is all Shiro! Woo! (And a little bit of Sheith and Team Voltron too!)


	3. and then there were us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Shiro was always told to hope for the best but prepare for the worst, so he built a habit of not being too hopeful, of being grounded and always thinking ahead. He became what his friends always said as “too much of a realist.” But he couldn’t afford to be anything but that. 
>> 
>> He didn’t point out things where they don’t exist, and he had enough confidence to know where to step and where to step back. He prided himself in being able to realise potential in others and himself, which was perhaps why he had been placed into the role of leader over and over again. For those, he kept a healthy amount of optimism most of the time.
>> 
>> But it didn’t feel like those times these days. It felt hard too hard to do when he stood before the Black Lion, worn and still - dead, he didn’t want to say, because she wasn’t dead, but she looked defeated. Her paladin looked almost the same when Shiro got to him, save for the soft and laboured breaths that he made that seemed to drag so slow that Shiro wondered if he was actually breathing at all.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have deadlines but guess what, i can still procrastinate when i have absolutely nothing to do.

Shiro was always told to hope for the best but prepare for the worst, so he built a habit of not being too hopeful, of being grounded and always thinking ahead. He became what his friends always said as “too much of a realist.” But he couldn’t afford to be anything but that. 

He didn’t point out things where they don’t exist, and he had enough confidence to know where to step and where to step back. He prided himself in being able to realise potential in others and himself, which was perhaps why he had been placed into the role of leader over and over again. For those, he kept a healthy amount of optimism most of the time.

But it didn’t feel like those times these days. It felt hard too hard to do when he stood before the Black Lion, worn and still - _ dead _, he didn’t want to say, because she wasn’t dead, but she looked defeated. Her paladin looked almost the same when Shiro got to him, save for the soft and laboured breaths that he made that seemed to drag so slow that Shiro wondered if he was actually breathing at all. 

Hope was but a small flickering flame in the waiting room as he sat beside Colleen. And with every moment that passed, it felt like a wind could blow it out without warning, just like that. But Shiro took that flame and held it in every bit of his being with every visit to the ICU to see each and every single one of the paladins. He stayed longer with Keith when Krolia had yet to arrive, just to keep him company for a little while each day, because no one else was.

When Lance woke up, that flickering hope Shiro held onto felt a little stronger. It felt like a small ray of sunshine in a sky full of clouds. 

He visited Lance after work one day, and walked into the room to hear Lance screaming at Louis as he lost another round of cards. 

“I swear you’re cheating, man,” Lance grumbled as he reshuffled the cards. Then he noticed Shiro, who gave him a small wave. “Oh hey! Shiro!”

“Hey Lance.” Shiro said as Louis excused himself from the room for them to speak. Shiro situated himself on the chair that Louis was sitting on, right next to Lance’s bed. 

“Looking fabulous in the new team Voltron uniform, I see.” Lance cheekily grinned, pointing to Shiro’s uniform with the black accents. The gold stripes on his shoulders clearer than ever against the black fabric. 

The uniform was Lance’s pet project in between all the time spent preparing to counter Sendak’s doomsday plan. Shiro had only known about it after the design had come through and he was requested for a fitting. His was the only one that had finally been finished. 

The uniform was Coran’s and Lance’s idea, though it had gone through the other paladins and their inputs as well. And staring at Shiro was his uniform with black accents, which he still wondered if it was still appropriate. While he had worn the Black Paladin armour since the very beginning, it felt a little strange to don a uniform representing the same thing again when the title no longer belonged to him. It belonged to Keith, who should be wearing the colour, who should be awake and not breathing with respirators down his throat. 

“Congratulations on the promotion, _ captain _ Shirogane. Garrison finally giving you the respect you deserve.” Lance said. 

“Thanks, Lance,” Shiro chuckled, a bit awkward and abashed. “Veronica told you?”

Lance huffed as if Shiro’s words had offended him. “No. Well- yes, because I did hear it from her officially. But I heard it unofficially from the nurses that were checking you out whenever you came by to check on Keith.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah. Lancey Lance always has his ways.” Lance wiggled his eyebrows.

“Somehow I feel like you know more gossip around here than I ever did.” Shiro laughed. “Welcome back, by the way. How have you been?”

“Thanks, man. Honestly I still feel like crap, and the only reason I can even talk to you right now is because I’m just bordering on having too much painkillers before my brain goes loopy.” Lance made a twirling motion at his head. “But things are okay. Good company makes this better.”

“Your family comes in to see you a lot, right?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “They’ve been so helpful and supportive. It just… made me worry less when I saw them all after I woke up, so I know that they’re fine after… Sendak and everything.”

Shiro nodded in understanding after waking up day after day wondering if any of the paladins will have ever woken up. Lance must have also heard about the others, and was also trying to not think about how everyone else had yet to awaken. That flickering hope again.

“Veronica was really upset when I woke up,” he said, and Shiro pulled himself out of his thoughts to respond with confusion.

“Why?”

“Various reasons, I guess. Stress being partially a culprit.” Lance played with the blanket in his hand, still taped with various needles and tubes. “She’s fine now, or at least I think she is. Does she look like she’s doing okay lately?”

Shiro thought back to his recent interactions with his second-in-command on the Atlas. They had all looked rugged and tired after the battle, and Veronica was the same, looking particularly stressed as she came back with Lance’s rescue team. After the day Lance woke up, however, there was a noticeable relief in her gestures, which was only natural. 

“She was just worried about you.” Shiro said. “I noticed that she is better after you woke up, though. And I don’t think she was upset at you, if that’s what you were worried about.”

“I know. I might just be projecting.” Lance laughed nervously. “I just- I said something to console her but I just wonder if I ever said the right thing.”

“I think you just need to trust yourself on that, Lance. I’m sure you did.”

“Thanks.” He smiled slightly, then fell silent in thought for a while before abruptly turning to Shiro. 

“Shiro, did you ever regret this - going into space, becoming a part of Voltron, and then -” Lance smiled, “-having to lead the worst the Garrison had to offer through an intergalactic war nobody asked for?”

“You guys were pretty bad at flying in the beginning, I’ll admit.” Shiro laughed slightly as he recalled the things that have happened. True - he had never asked for the things that have happened to him and the responsibilities that were thrusted upon him. He didn’t ask to be leader, or to be captured by the Galra for a year and all the events since. He didn’t ask to die and be cloned. And perhaps if he had listened to Adam, he would have lived with a lot less scars and a lot less nightmares that wake him up in cold sweat in the middle of the night. Perhaps if he hadn’t left, things would have gone a lot differently, and he might have been more whole.

But what he said to Lance was, “No. I don’t. I don’t because I can’t think of anywhere else that I would rather be than to have been the Black Paladin, and to have had the privilege to lead you and the team.”

“We built a family, right?” 

“We did. And Voltron will always be a family.” Shiro smiled and was returned with a sadder one than his own. 

Lance looked at him with shame when he continued. “I’m sorry, for back then in the astral plane when I couldn’t hear you.”

“Lance-”

“I just- I don’t know why I couldn’t.”

“Hey, it’s alright.” Shiro consoled. “Even Keith had a hard time contacting me. I was dead, Lance. Talking to the dead isn’t something normal people do.”

“Paladins of Voltron are normal to you? Your standards must be really damn high.” Lance snickered, trying to lift the mood. “No wonder Keith’s the only one that ever managed to impress you.”

Shiro shook his head, amused. “I’ve been impressed by a lot of people.”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself, that Shirogane, but we all know who you got the heart eyes for.” He teased. “You planning anything when he wakes up?”

“We’ll see.” Shiro said, because Lance said with so much confidence that Keith would wake up, but then he hadn't seen Keith every single day - how pale he looked, how fragile he seemed. Shiro got up because it was already a bit past visiting hour and he’d rather leave before the nurse tried to herd him out. But before he could say his partings, Lance grabbed his arm and looked at him seriously.

“Hey, you both deserve it.”

It took a moment to understand what Lance meant.“Deserve what?”

“Happiness. Maybe you should start thinking about it.” Lance said, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Also I’ll say this now before I forget, but don’t think I didn’t notice how you looked at the uniform, but you deserve that colour, too, Shiro. You’ll always be Voltron, just as the rest of us are.”

It was so unexpected that Shiro found himself smiling a little, nodding at the words. “Thanks Lance.” The black and gold on his shoulders suddenly felt a little more comfortable as he walked out of the room.

Hunk was next to wake up, and he was much more cheerful than Shiro had seen him in the days before leading to the final battle. Hunk invited him in with a smile on his face and was already bragging about his family coming to visit him and bringing in food for him. 

“It beats hospital food, and even cafeteria food on Friday night,” Hunk said.

“Really?” Shiro laughed. “Even the mac and cheese?”

“Shiro, you are a disgusting human being. Leave my room, right now.”

Shiro chucked a potato wedge at Hunk, who caught it in his mouth with a proud smirk. While the Garrison didn’t make the best mac and cheese, Shiro owed it a life debt for having sustained him for the years that he had lived as cadet and then instructor at the Garrison. And it was the best thing they ever had to offer, like ever.

“I brought your food to Lance the other day.” Shiro started.

“Oh! Did he say anything?”

“He asked if it was too late for your parents to adopt him.” He grinned, thinking about the memory. “And then Veronica and his mom smacked him on the head.”

“He really deserved that for saying such a thing in front of his mom.” Hunk roared in laughter. “My mom would give me a hard glare if I ever said that.”

“How is your family, by the way? Are they settling okay?”

“Yeah, they’re doing a lot better. Thanks for helping them and letting them see me while I was in a coma.” Hunk said. “It was really nice to be able to see them right after I woke up.”

“They deserve to see you. I know I would have gone mad if I had children in a coma and I wasn’t allowed to see them.” Shiro shrugged.

“Yeah, I know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my mom cry until now.” Hunk twisted the fork in his hand, his expression melancholic. “I woke up and she was crying. And I just froze. I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

“Is she the type to not always express her feelings?”

“Oh, no! She’s very emotional with every other emotion on the spectrum. But… I just haven’t seen her sad very often. She’s always so tough and dependable.” Hunk licked his lips. “I was just a bit taken aback I guess. Even as tactile as our family was.”

“I guess sometimes we just don’t know the depth of our parents’ emotions.” Shiro nodded. “A mother’s love is one of the greatest one to ever exist.”

Hunk smiled at that response, and nodded in agreement. He took a drink of water before sheepishly asking. “It’s kinda stupid that I have to ask this now, but… do you have a family somewhere?“

“Oh, it’s not stupid.” Shiro waved him off. “I never shared this with you guys: my family is in Russia at the moment.”

“Oh… I thought they would have been here.”

“They moved back to Japan after I graduated. And I called them after I got back, too. But Sendak’s plans made it unsafe to continue living there.”

One of Sendak’s contraptions still remained in the Pacific, though broken and dormant at the moment. The reported casualties caused by the successive earthquakes and tsunamis had been depressingly high, though lower than expected as governments around the world moved their citizens away from the Pacific Ring of Fire. Various countries bordering the east of the Pacific ocean opened up their borders to take in refugees, in hopes of reducing casualties when the terraforming machines were finally put to work. Shiro's family had managed to get to Siberia the week before the disaster happened.

“Man... are they okay?”

Shiro nodded. “It’s a bit hard for them to contact me at the moment when our satellites are all gone right now, but they managed to send me a text telling me they're okay.”

“You miss them?” 

“I guess… not to the degree that I thought I would have.” Shiro shrugged, though a bit sad. “I just kind of grew away from them after so long. And it’s not that I don’t appreciate them and remember them, but sometimes the ache isn’t there anymore, like how you and Lance are with your family.”

Shiro’s family were supportive, but they have always been distant when Shiro was so busy with trying to make the most of his (then) time sensitive opportunities. He couldn’t recall the last time he saw them in person - it was even before he broke up with Adam. But that didn’t make him unhappy. 

“You’ll always have us, though. Wasn’t that what you told Lance?”

Shiro chuckled slightly. “You guys caught up already, huh?” 

Before Hunk could reply, Shiro’s datapad chimed its alarm, urging him to go back to work. Shiro tapped the alarm off with a sigh. “Guess I better get going.” 

“You barely even had a break, dude.” Hunk made a face of disapproval but relented. He pointed to a container on the table. “Take some stuff with you.”

“What? No, Hunk, your family made those for you.”

“And I’ll share them with whoever I want. Sharing is caring.” He rolled his eyes. 

Shiro relented, taking a container and looking at Hunk with a fond gratefulness. He had been so swamped with work as of late that the small lunch visit was all he could afford to see Hunk. But talking to him had made the day a little more breathable. “Thank you, Hunk.”

“It’s no biggie. Someone’s gotta watch out for you when Keith and Pidge won’t be around to hound at you about your work habits.” Hunk grinned. “Take your lunch and remember to eat that, Captain.”

When Allura woke up, Shiro didn’t have much to say to her. He took the day off to check on her, asking the generic questions that one would ask when visiting friends and families who were sick, though he already knew the extent of Allura’s condition, having checked up on Coran everyday while she was out. 

Her arm was still in that ugly cast, though Shiro had introduced her to the concept of signing the cast. So far, there were only four signatures on it: his, Coran’s, Lance’s (who was finally able to walk around) and Allura’s assigned nurse. 

The mice snored lightly at the feet of Allura’s bed as they talked. It had taken a lot of convincing for the doctors to allow them into the building, not to mention into Allura’s room, but Coran’s constant protest about how the Altean mice were intelligent beings that were mentally linked to the Princess stopped their questioning in favour of just appeasing the man.

While Shiro hadn’t had much to speak of besides updates on the outside world, Allura, ever the observant monarch that she had grown to be, looked him down with a frown. “You look a bit tired. Are you alright, Shiro? Are they overworking you?”

_ When does the Garrison not overwork their staff? _ Shiro almost said sarcastically, but then realised that Allura might have taken it literally. He shook his head, instead. 

He had been feeling better as of late, now that three of the Paladins have regained consciousness. “I’m fine. Been feeling a lot better actually.” Shiro replied. “A lot of good energy came in with you and the others waking up.”

Allura didn’t miss that subtle tiredness in his tone, however. “Have you been visiting Keith and Pidge?”

Shiro nodded.

“How are they?” She asked worryingly. 

“Pidge’s doing a lot better now. The doctors said that we should be expecting her to wake up soon.” 

“And Keith?”

Shiro wondered what to say. He had been moved to his own room now, and Krolia is constantly with him, turning a small corner of the room into her private work area. Shiro dropped by to visit when he could to both see Keith and speak to Krolia. Krolia was now more confident that Keith will be alright, and so was Shiro, but it didn’t make it any less difficult to see him in that state. He wasn’t used to seeing Keith like this - the feisty, sharp-cornered Keith who mellowed out as you grew to know him, who was always so animated once you get him talking. Shiro missed his voice, missed speaking with him, kissing him, and holding him as if nothing in the world ever mattered.

“He’s getting better. But… it’s slow.” Shiro smiled sadly. “Which is really strange, to me.”

Allura cocked her head. “How so?”

“I just… can’t believe how much time had passed since I first met him, and how quickly that had passed. And yet every minute I spent waiting for him to wake up just…”

“Felt like an eternity.” Allura finished for him.

Shiro nodded. “Makes you realise how precious and uncertain our future is, doesn’t it.” 

Allura smiled in understanding, and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder. “Coran cried when I woke up. He asked me to never scare him like that again by going into a coma after crashing from the sky, that is. He knew I was going to put myself out there again, and he knew he couldn’t stop me. But he said it anyways, because I'm all that’s left of his family from 10 thousand years ago. 

“We’re the last ancient Alteans. And I love him. He’s like a second father to me. But I couldn’t make myself promise him that I’ll come back at the end of all this.” Her expression fell as she finished.

Shiro took Allura’s hand on his shoulder and squeezed. They both knew the burdens of leadership. Both having taken so much of it and both having lost so much because of it. For Allura, who still carries the hope of an entire civilisation, who had been in the fight longer than any of them, the weight was crushing and painful. But perhaps he could lessen it a bit.

He shared the precious hope he had with her. “I’ll make sure you do. We’ll all go back together.”

Allura smiled gratefully, “I hope so too.”

They spoke for another long while before it was time to leave again. But before he left, he suddenly remembered something. He teased, “Lance was asking about you. He said he wanted to come by when you were feeling better.”

“That’s kind of him.” Allura said, though she looked suspiciously at Shiro’s shit-eating grin. “Though it’s the face that you’re making that I don’t understand.”

“_Allura, that's bad manners._”

“That’s it. The next time you come back, Keith better be with you so at least someone could shut you up when I want you to.” Allura let out a groan as Shiro laughed, dodging the extra pillow she threw at him and made a run for the door.

Pidge was already back at her laptop when he visited. The moment Shiro stepped in, she was already asking questions without even glancing away from her laptop.

“Are the Garrison brass being idiots again? My access to the system is limited again. Why are they doing that?”

“Uh, maybe because you don’t have the ranks for it?” Shiro said dumbly. “Though when does that ever matter to you.”

“True.” Pidge shrugged and closed her laptop, then scooted to one side of the bed, patting the empty space left behind for him to sit. Shiro sat down with one of his legs bent on the mattress and the other dangling off the end of the bed. 

“Good to see you’re already up to your mischiefs again.” Shiro noted. Pidge was still very much immoble, even on the bed, she couldn’t sit up fully without causing too much stress on her spine, which needed an entire long operation to fix. Though that didn’t stop her from doing random things to piss off the Garrison I.T. people. “I’m already hearing complaints from I.T.”

“I’m just backing up stuff that’s mine.” Which was mostly all the footage ever since Kerberos up until now. Pidge wasn’t taking any chances of the Garrison hiding another Kerberos - though that was practically impossible now. The sentiment was still understandable. If Shiro had her talents and wasn’t already a part of the Garrison’s higher ups, he probably would have done the same.

“Heard Matt gave you a lecture right after you woke up.”

Pidge huffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, alright, I did get yelled at. But he was bawling his eyes out like a baby, too. So I didn’t really get yelled at.”

“Cut him some slack. He only has one little sister.” Shiro said. “You had to get a blood transfusion from him, too, so I think he has the right to be worried.”

Pidge nodded, if a bit guilty. “I know.”

“How have you been feeling?”

She shrugged. “Same ol’. They say I’m fine now, but I should still be on bed rest for another week before they try physio.”

Shiro tried not to cringe. He had his own fair share of memories about physiotherapy. It wasn’t because of what they were doing, but more because of what they weren’t achieving. 

“That’ll be tough,” he said. Shiro liked to think of himself as patient as he taught others to be. But growing up thinking that your time was limited had made him a lot more impulsive than he would like to admit. And physio - while necessary - was something he didn’t have the patience for.

“Yeah, I know, but what can you do, right?” Pidge shrugged, but then gave him a long look that had Shiro a bit confused.

“What?” 

“Nothing. Just…” she said. “Thanks for taking care of my parents and Matt while I was out.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, Pidge.” He had practically known their families since his school days. It was only natural for him to care.

“I know. But I just thought you needed someone to appreciate your effort these days. People don’t acknowledge each other’s work enough.” Pidge took her glasses off and wiped them with a small towel on the bedside table. Shiro smiled at her words. She was right, it was nice to hear his actions be noticed, even if he didn't ask for the attention.

"So tell me: what has been happening these days?” Pidge asked

Shiro gave her an update, though there wasn't much to tell her that she didn’t already know from Lance, who had apparently come by the day before and spoke with Pidge for hours before he left. Pidge went quiet when he finished, then she asked softly, “Is Keith going to be okay?”

The only ones who had information about that besides the doctors were Shiro and Krolia, though she hasn't visited the other paladins as often as Shiro did. And with four of the paladins already up, there was only one left that none of them knew anything about. They all worried, despite each and every one of them still feeling a bit crappy, themselves.

“He’s getting better. He’s breathing by himself now, and they said brain activity is picking up, too.” Shiro could have sworn that he saw Keith’s eye twitching a few times beneath his eyelids. Though he didn’t want to speak too soon about when Keith would wake up. He only hoped.

“I’m glad.” Pidge had the barest hint of a smile.

“You don’t look that glad.”

Pidge sighed. “I just… didn’t think he’d be the last one to wake up. He just always seemed so tough, you know?”

“I know.” Shiro smiled, because even as a teenager that Shiro had met years ago, Keith was tough in his own ways. He couldn’t count on his hands the number of times he had depended on Keith, even from before Voltron. He was there when Shiro went forward with Kerberos, he was there in the fallout with Adam, and he was there before all that to trust an optimistic stranger enough to him to the edge of the universe. It was then that Shiro realised all the love that was given to him, and all the love he wanted to give back. 

“He’ll wake up soon.” Shiro said. “Don’t worry.”

And just as Shiro said that Keith would wake, he did. But by the time Shiro had managed to get to the room and caught his breath at the doorway, Keith had fallen back asleep. Krolia was nowhere to be found. 

Shiro made his way towards the machine and various sensors, reading them as if he could understand them, looking for some sort of sign that Keith did wake up. He sat down on the chair next to the bed, and took one of Keith’s hands tenderly, careful not to disturb the needle on his wrist.

“He was very tired when he woke up.” Krolia’s voice sounded from the doorway, along with the swing of the door closing. She must have come back from the bathroom. She sat on the chair on the other side of the bed. “But he doesn’t seem to be in pain.”

“That’s a relief.” It felt like a million years of stress was finally lifted from Shiro, and he let out a long breath. “Did he say anything?”

Krolia hummed. “Nothing much. He was critiquing my clothes. Tell me, do I look strange?”

Shiro turned to Krolia, who was evidently wearing Keith’s father’s clothing, judging by the size. Though it wasn’t bad, it was a style that Shiro would touch with a one hundred metre pole. It looked even stranger on a tall purple alien lady. But Shiro wasn’t about to lose his other arm today. 

“Stranger than your usual look, but not unusual.” Shiro said and made a note to get Krolia clothes that didn’t make her look like a lumberjack in the middle of a desert. 

Shiro practically moved his office into Keith’s room after that, opting to take online meetings and appointments instead. Krolia, understanding the sentiment, had moved her things away to leave him with her work corner. 

“I won’t be needing it for the next week.” Krolia said. After being assured that her son was fine, she was finally taking up the initial workload that was assigned to her by the Blades, leaving Shiro to watch over Keith.

Keith didn’t wake up again for another day. But when he did, Shiro was tapping his pen on his fingers, scribbling furiously every once in a while as he shoved another draft of the remembrance speech into the rubbish bin nearby. 

A cracked voice called out to Shiro, and he was out of his seat in seconds, one hand gripping tightly into Keith’s and the other stroking at his cheek. “Hey,” Shiro said with a soft voice. “Hey, I’m here. I’m here.”

The eyes that greeted him made Shiro want to cry. “Hey Shiro.”

“Hey you.” Shiro grinned. “How are you feeling?”

“I’ve had better days, admittedly,” Keith chuckled painfully from his still bruised ribs. He was still weak, barely able to lift his hand or turn his head without wrinkling his eyebrows in pain or to stop the dizziness.But he was getting better, that’s all Shiro could ask for.

“Try not to laugh too much at the moment, yeah? Your ribs still haven’t healed and your throat probably hasn't recovered from having a tube shoved down it.” Shiro rubbed his hand lightly. He wanted badly to tuck Keith’s hair away from his face, but the bandage around his head wasn’t coming off for at least a little while longer. 

“I was dreaming.” Keith started, eyes boring into Shiro’s with some emotion akin to fondness.

“What about?” 

“I was at the shack, the sand was everywhere, and I was covered in it. And you were there, with a chocolate cake covered in red frosting.”

Shiro smiled. He knew exactly what Keith was talking about. “Sounded like your 20th birthday.”

“You got me a cake for my 20th birthday?”

“Of course, don’t you remember?”

“Not really.”

“Oh right, you were too drunk to remember. But don’t you remember the hangover the day after?”

“I don’t?” Keith said. “What happened?”

“I smeared frosting all over your hair and you went to sleep with it. It went all over your pillow and bedsheets.”

Keith smiled and nodded lightly, "When was that?”

“6 years ago for Earth, 2 years ago for us because of space and relativity.”

“Has it really been that long?”

“It has.” Shiro brushed his thumb over the back of Keith’s hand, tracing the dips and ridges of the bones and how much thinner his fingers had gotten after the battle. “We missed two of your birthdays.”

Keith held up four fingers with his other hand. “Four - I spent two in the space whale with mom. We guestimated it though.”

Keith was away from them for two years in his memory. Shiro had forgotten. Keith was now only four years younger than him. And he had grown so much over such a short amount of time, he had experienced so much pain and heartbreak for someone so young. Shiro gripped his hand, mind still reeling the image of Keith pinned beneath him, crying in desperation for Shiro to snap from Haggar’s control, to come back to him, to help him get to their friends. The scar on Keith's cheek suddenly was so much more prominent than he ever noticed. Keith had been through so much, they all have. 

Shiro suddenly wondered how much time they will ever have together like this again. The moment when Shiro realised he loved him had been terrifying, but the thought of never bring able to show him that love again had scared Shiro even more. He loved Keith, and all he wanted to do now was hold him close and kiss him with all the energy he had until they can’t breath.

“Keith, I-” he started, but couldn’t find the words he wanted. He got off his seat and leaned in to place a kiss on his forehead instead. “It’s good to have you back.”

Keith grinned and squeezed Shiro’s hand, pulling it to his chest in return, “It’s good to be back,” he said before kissing Shiro’s knuckles.

The flame in Shiro’s chest was warm, and it burned brighter than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and Shiro makes good on his promise to Allura and brings them all back and no one dies.  
the end.
> 
> I hope everyone is doing okay in quarantine! I have completely lost track of which week of school I'm on and i think 2 of my classes are actually on different weeks so i'm just very confused. But i'm still missing deadlines anyways so what's the point of knowing lmao.  
(just kidding kids, dont miss deadlines like me because i'm a dumbass that is unmotivated when i am at home and therefore is distracted by the people walking around the house that talks to me)
> 
> probably don't need to tell anyone this but stay indoors for your own safety, if not then for others around you. don't go out when you dont need to and try to stay from crowded places. wear a mask if you have one when you go out. also things suck but we can only be patient for now. 
> 
> thank you for reading! I realise this ending is very anticlimatic but like it was like this since i first wrote the outline, so who knows what i was on when i came up with the concept.  
please leave comments and kudos (if you like :] ), I respond to comments (unless you tell me otherwise, which is fine too!)
> 
> you can hit me up for a chat in the comments or over on my [tumblr](https://meapistrash.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/imbabyplzbekind).


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